


Pushups

by CometEclipse



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Crack, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-04-06 03:15:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4205871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CometEclipse/pseuds/CometEclipse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen lost a bet, and now has to drop and give the Inquisitor twenty anytime they say, no matter the place or who is watching. Any. Time. For a week.</p><p>The Inquisitor takes full advantage of this, much to the general enthusiasm of the Skyhold population. Bonus if Cullen complains to Josephine and/or Leliana and they are unsympathetic, citing the overall boost to morale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pushups

**Author's Note:**

> Very short little drabble I wrote to the above prompt over at k-meme
> 
> (Seriously I wrote this in like five minutes…)

He was working down in the court yard, training the new recruits. So far, he had been safe, so far he had avoided her. He relaxed his hands on the pommel of his sword, keeping a critical eye on the two working in the circle.

That’s when he heard it… “Cuuuuuulllllleeeeeeennnnnnn!” His eyes widened and whipped up. Where was she?

High above him, the Inquisitor was leaning over the railing of the balcony, waving her hand back and forth. Vivienne smirked next to her, obviously enjoying the thought of what was coming.

Cold sweat broke out along his brow.

“Cuuulllleeeeeennnnnn! Drop and give me 20!” 

Everyone stopped, whispered, wide eyes flying between the suddenly pale commander and the crazy elf practically levitating off the balcony. He clenched his teeth and counted to 10, hoping to keep his composure.

“Cuuuulllleeeennnn! You lost! Now you owe me 20! And the shirt comes off this time too!”

And now everyone was staring at the bright pink commander, as he slowly started to work on removing his armor, desperately trying to ignore the cat-calls and suggestive comments the supposed ‘Herald of Andraste’ rained down on him. Maker save him, he was never surviving this week.


End file.
